Superior
by Archerea
Summary: Destiel short based on TIm Christensen's Superior. "All his prayers end with "Please"."


**Superior**

_Superior  
I just try to be superior  
But I don't need to be superior  
All you need is me_

"Who do you think you are?" Dean hisses, the ugly, foul anger like venom in his mouth, distrust and wariness making his shoulders tense up and his breathing harsh and difficult, "How dare you think that you're so much better than me, _Angel_?"  
Castiel wonders how that word out of Dean's mouth can be both a sweet murmur of endearment and a stinging insult. And he wonder why he cares this much. He used to be so sure of everything. Of whom he was, what he stood for, his purpose on this plane of existence and in Heaven clear to him. Now he doesn't know anything anymore, all because he's become someone else than God's angel. He was a divine presence in a mortal container, Grace carefully constrained within the limits of a devout man's flesh and blood and pale skin. Now the body is his alone and he thinks he might has started becoming one of them. A human. Mud and a crumbling skeleton and brightly flaring feelings that make him want to hide away.

"No. Dean, no".

_Perfectionist  
I'm a bit of a perfectionist  
But you don't want perfection  
All you want is me_

His hands snake around Dean's waist and he pulls him closer because he can't bear being apart from him. They're both sweaty and naked and basic and Castiel is running his finger-tips across his human's chest, achingly brief as he traces the place where he knows sigils are carved into Dean's rib only millimeters from his searching touch. A light shutter runs through Dean. His palms lock tightly on Castiel's cheeks and he fixes their faces together at the lips, whimpering and praying for him though Cas is already there. "Angel, my angel…" the hunter breathes into his mouth, a vulnerable and quivering mess, and Castiel smiles, satisfied with the elegance of the Enochian engravings in Dean's core. He might be a bit of a perfectionist, and rightly so. Dean is a work of art. They can have it all.

_I am terrified of what I might find  
If I lose control of my very soul  
Better understand that I'm in command  
When the fever breaks  
I scramble to cover my mistakes  
I scramble to cover my mistakes_

"You still my angel, Cas?" Dean asks, voice gruff and hard. He sounds like he's in control. But Castiel sees him, knows that he's terrified. The more afraid Dean is the harsher he'll try to sound, like appearing angry or stoic is better than baring it all. The words betray him as well, and Cas so wants to tell him what he wants to hear. But things are different now. He sees it all through the unforgiving light of Purgatory, in the purple shadows beneath Dean's eyes and the grime covering both their hands, and he knows that he has to stay and that Dean has to go. The righteous man doesn't belong in this place; he should be in the Impala with Sam, listening to that infernal racket he likes to call music. And that's why Cas lies. To cover up his mistakes, the biggest being the one of letting Dean think that they'd get out of here together, and perhaps to melt away the fever-like regret that's breaking inside him.  
"No".  
He lies a lot these days.

_Superior  
I just try to be superior  
But I don't need to be superior  
All you need is me_

"Cas. Castiel, come back. I need you. Please.".

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to let go. Angel, please".

All his prayers end with "Please".

_The enemy  
I treat you like my enemy  
I keep my enemies close to me  
All I want is you_

When Cas comes back Dean's going to say sorry. It's the only way. Dean's proud, most of the time too proud for his own good, but he's not above getting down on both knees and begging for forgiveness. Not when it's Cas. And he's gonna take his hands and kiss his brow and ask him to stay and get a "yes" because this time he'll do it right. He'll do it _all_ right. When Cas comes back. There's no "if". He need to believe that Cas'll be back with them soon and that they won't need to keep him close because they think of him as an enemy, but rather because he's their friend. Dean also knows what he'll say to make Cas stay. Or well, the speech's still a bit sketchy but it involves phrases such as "love" and "better with you" and "Angel". And it will leave him wide open but that's alright. When Cas comes back it'll be alright.

_I am terrified of what I might find  
If I lose control of my very soul  
Better understand that I'm in command  
When the fever breaks  
I scramble to cover my mistakes  
Scramble to cover my mistakes_

"Dean, I'm not". He doesn't say it very loud, but though Dean's eyes are clouded with resentment and hurt, Cas voice still cuts through the haze like glass shattering.  
"You're not what?" he spits, taking a step back when Castiel takes one forward, dragging his bare feet over the sickly chipper green of the room's carpet.

He had been sleeping when the angel had zapped into their room. Sam had gone out shopping and Dean was exhausted. Cas had been there at the inside of his lids when he closed his eyes. He was used to that, seeing him was normal before the nightmares took over, but this time a soft call of his name had followed along with the pictures of small smiles and beige fabric and he had barely managed a thought of "wow, that's new" before his eyes had burst open and found Castiel.

Cas stops dead in his track when he realizes that Dean doesn't want him near. The notion sends a jolt of something like ice through his chest, but he doesn't let the emotion surface on his face. Instead he answers the question: "I'm not better. I'm not superior to you.".  
"Then what, Cas?" this time Dean's yelling and he knows it is unnecessary and that he is behaving like a spoiled brat, but it's too much, it's all too much because Cas just shows up out and the "love"-part is stuck in his throat, "What are you then, exactly?"  
"I'm…" Cas hesitates for a heartbeat. He knows he can't go back to how it was before if he says what he intends to, but he's not sure he wants to do so anyway, "I'm your angel, Dean".

And then it doesn't matter that there's a whole sodding flood of words wedged in him because the only thing Dean can think of is _Cas, Cas_, and the only thing he can say is "yes, yes" and the only thing he can possibly do is to tear away the restraints and hold Cas and not stop. Never stop.

_I am terrified of what I might find  
If I lose control of my very soul  
Better understand that I'm in command  
When the fever breaks  
I scramble to cover my mistakes  
Scramble to cover my mistakes_


End file.
